


Her Pilgrim Soul

by eurydice72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, First Love, Magical Tattoos, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8692060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/pseuds/eurydice72
Summary: AU set in 1950s midwest America. Nobody sees bad girl Morgana the way Merlin does.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jungle_ride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/gifts).



> Happy holidays! I tried incorporating a few things you were looking for into a single fic, so I hope it works. :)

Though nobody would ever dare utter it aloud, everybody at Avalon High knew. It was both the school’s worst and best kept secret. As the new kid his freshman year, Merlin hadn’t even realized there was a secret until well into spring when Will snuck them into the American Legion hall and got drunk on what he found stashed in the janitor’s closet.

“Oh, yeah,” he’d loudly proclaimed, or maybe it was an illusion and Merlin only thought it was too loud because the hall was big and dark and empty and everything was magnified a hundred inside these walls. “I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out already. The whole town knows Arthur’s old man knocked up Morgana’s mom. Just no one wants to say anything ‘cause of Uther. The man’s a real closet case. No tellin’ what he’d do if the truth got out.”

From that point on, Merlin found his gaze always drifting in her direction, even more than it had before. She was hard to ignore, more beautiful and confident than any other girl in school, but she was disruptive, too, always getting in trouble with teachers for talking too much or being late or wearing the wrong clothes. One time, Mrs. O’Malley chastised Morgana for her cardigan being too tight and insisted she unbutton it to avoid indecency. A smirking Morgana rose from her chair, and in full view of the entire class, proceeded to do as she was told, brazenly revealing the only garment she wore under the sweater was her bra.

Mrs. O’Malley couldn’t get her to the principal’s office fast enough. Morgana got two weeks detention for the stunt, and every boy Merlin knew got daydream material to last them for months.

Every boy, that was, minus two. Arthur, who never paid her any heed, as if acknowledging her existence would lessen his. 

And Merlin, because his fantasies about Morgana were only occasionally carnal and couldn’t be replaced by blonde movie stars who tried to sell dreams rather than reality.

Summer meant a break from school and the few friends he’d made as he set to mowing lawns for everybody who would hire him. Many were skeptical. Merlin didn’t exactly exude athletic prowess. But he’d inherited his mother’s work ethic, and if he had to put up with the occasional gibe, the extra money was worth it.

Before school resumed, he shot up four inches and developed some color that wasn’t his typical pallor during the winter months. He strode into Avalon High on the first day of his sophomore year, confident this year would be an improvement on last, and ran smack dab into Morgana.

His books went flying, and while she stumbled, he was the one to land flat on his ass. Laughter erupted from the jocks at the nearby lockers.

“Lawnboy can’t keep it up without his mower,” they jeered.

His face went hot, and he ducked his head to hide it as he scrambled to pick up his notebook.

“Here.”

At the sound of Morgana’s voice, Merlin jolted. His head snapped up to find her holding out his pencil case, her normally flashing eyes quiet with sympathy.

“Don’t let those creeps bug you,” she added. “They’re bona fide assholes.”

Mute, he accepted the case, but he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do much of anything but nod in agreement, then track her rise when she straightened. Her girlfriends clustered around her, and with a final glance over her shoulder, Morgana strolled off, flipping the bird at the jocks who’d needled him as she passed them by.

As he tried to find some order in the mess, his entire body throbbed. His pulse was a boom in his ears. His fingers shook from the nearness of the encounter. His skin was ready to vibrate right off his flesh, and they hadn’t even touched, made no physical contact whatsoever, nothing at all to explain his extreme reaction. He had to disappear to the boys’ bathroom near the science classes to find the privacy necessary to pull himself together before the bell rang for first period.

His reflection startled him.

The hair at his temples was damp with sweat, but it was the gold tinge around the blue of his eyes that made him stare. As he watched, the color faded, but rather set Merlin at ease, it compelled him forward, searching the blue depths for any lingering trace.

He found none. Though splashing some cold water over his face helped dispel the rest of the tremors, it didn’t stop him from examining his eyes again once he was done. Was he getting sick? He hadn’t felt unwell before running into Morgana. Maybe it was hormones. The school nurse was always saying how teenaged boys should be blind by the time they graduated.

Whatever it was, it was gone now. Merlin combed his hair back down, took a deep breath, and headed for geometry.

By the time the bell rang, he was back to feeling almost normal, in spite of the whispering jocks he could hear from the back of the room. The empty seat in front of him gave him a clear shot of the blackboard, a bonus in the long run since math was most definitely not his strong suit. 

As Mr. Blaisdell turned to the chalkboard, the door opened, and Morgana sauntered in.

Mr. Blaisdell arched a brow. “Late on the first day? Not exactly starting off on the right foot, now are we, Morgana?”

“That’s okay,” she said with a broad smile. “I prefer my left anyway. It keeps things interesting.”

He sighed and went back to writing on the board. “Take a seat.”

Morgana swept a shrewd eye over the room. There were a few empty desks, one amongst the athletes, another in a far corner where she could sleep to her heart’s content. When her gaze lit on Merlin, however, she hesitated.

His heart started racing again. She wasn’t actually going to—

With her chin held high, Morgana walked straight to the empty seat in front of him and slid into it.

Merlin heard little of the lecture, though he took small comfort in the fact that the first day rarely contained anything important. He was still foggy at lunchtime when he met up with Will, but as he was about to ask his best friend’s advice on the matter, Morgana and her girlfriends passed their table, on the way to the boiler room to hide from the teachers as they smoked.

She didn’t stop, but her gaze locked on his, and the corner of her full mouth canted into a half-smile. “Hey.”

One word. That was all she said. Nobody else even acknowledged it.

Until they were long gone and Will punched him in the shoulder.

“What was that all about?” he exclaimed. “Since when are you on speaking terms with _her_?”

Two very good questions that Merlin wished he had the answer to. “She sits in front of me in geometry,” he said as if that would suffice.

It seemed to be enough for Will, who spent the rest of the period talking about every pretty girl in the cafeteria. Merlin’s thoughts were elsewhere, wandering empty halls in search of one more glimpse of Morgana’s wry smile.

* * *

“So how was school today?”

Merlin swallowed the bite of mashed potatoes he’d just put into his mouth so he could answer Hunith. “Good.” Weird, really, but his mom wasn’t truly interested in the reality of his day. She just wanted reassurances that he wasn’t falling into the wrong crowd or doing anything that might otherwise make his life harder than it already was.

“Have any classes with Will this year?”

“Just lunch.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Not really. His schedule is really bad news.”

“So what’s your favorite?”

“Geometry.” 

He answered without thinking, not catching his mistake until Hunith said, “Really? But you hate math.”

True, but he was caught in it now. He couldn’t very well tell her about Morgana, though. All he’d get would be lectures about “that sort of girl.”

“It’s not really math,” he said. “It’s more about…shapes.”

“How is that not math?”

“I dunno. It’s just…different.”

“And who’s the teacher?”

“Mr. Blaisdell.”

She fell silent at that, because Mr. Blaisdell was as innocuous as they came. At the first opportunity, Merlin excused himself to start on his homework and hid in his bedroom until Hunith knocked on his door at bedtime.

“I’m glad today went well for you,” she said. She looked tired, as she most likely was. They’d moved here because of the guarantee of jobs at the Pendragon factory, but her shifts were still long, the labor intense and draining. Working so much to make ends meet had become a way of life since Merlin’s father had passed away when he was little, and though he did what he could to help—like the lawn work during the summer—Merlin always wished he could do more. “Do you need any more supplies? I’ve got overtime coming in my next paycheck.”

“No, I’m set.” Guilt niggled at him for how he’d been so evasive about geometry. “I might’ve made a new friend today.” Not quite the whole story, and probably stretching the reality considerably, but he didn’t want her to think he was blowing her off. 

Hunith brightened. “Oh! That’s good to hear. Especially since you won’t see as much of Will during the day.”

“Yeah.”

Crossing the room, she dropped a kiss to his forehead. “Sleep well.”

Mentioning school brought up thoughts of Morgana again, even though he knew he should let it go. His distraction continued as he undressed for bed, only to be jerked back to the present when he caught his reflection in the mirror on his dresser.

The mirror wasn’t large, just big enough for him to check his hair and collar when he stood in front of it. From the other side of the room, however, more could be seen, though smaller and less distinct. What captured his eye, what froze him in mid-turn toward his bed, was a dark blot on his chest that had never been there before. 

Slowly, he looked down. It wasn’t a smudge on the mirror. There, over his heart, was black writing, a single word in ebony script.

_Here_

His blood roared. Before he could think, he tried rubbing it away with his thumb, digging at it so hard his pale skin reddened. It didn’t help. He tried again, but all he managed to accomplish was making the spot tender to the touch.

He almost yelled out for his mom but stopped without making a sound. Why should she believe that he knew nothing about it? She’d blame Will and his influence rather than think Merlin’s body had sprouted a mysterious new tattoo.

But how did he get it? Tattoos didn’t spring up from nowhere. This one was too specific, too. What did “here” mean? Here, as in his chest? His whole self? Where he lived? He hadn’t had it in the shower that morning. He was positive.

So as much as he wanted to know _how_ , what about when?

Stretching out on his bed, he kept touching the spot over and over as he mulled the many questions. Every once in a while, he looked at his fingers as if the ink had transferred, but they always came back clean.

He fell asleep still unsure what it all meant.

* * *

Merlin went to school on the second day without any answers, getting to geometry early. It wasn’t an attempt to recreate the events of the previous day, but rather the result of being too stuck in his thoughts. He kept his head low when the jocks filed in, but when Morgana slipped through the door just before the bell rang, he couldn’t help but watch.

She was radiant today, her hair pulled back in a ponytail that was already escaping its bindings. Where most of her peers wore full circle skirts, she chose the slimmer pencil cut, which made her seem more sophisticated than her small-town neighbors. Merlin certainly couldn’t keep his eyes off her, especially at the way her hips swayed with each step.

“Giving your right foot a try?” Mr. Blaisdell commented when she passed his desk.

Morgana rolled her eyes, then flipped him off when his back was turned. Without a pause, she slid into the seat in front of Merlin again, slumping down far enough so that the ends of her hair trailed over his textbook.

He barely heard the lecture. His head was filled the scent of her musky perfume, his vision with the way the tiny hairs at the edge of her hairline curled against her pale skin. It wasn’t until everyone was passing back the list of homework assignments for the next few weeks that he snapped out of the spell, and that happened only because Morgana twisted to hand him the stack of papers and uttered a single word.

“Here.”

_Here._

He stared at her, frozen in the moment. That was what she’d said to him yesterday in the hallway. It couldn’t be coincidence that was the mysterious word on his chest, could it?

When he took too long to take the papers, she smiled. “Guess I’m not the only one who falls asleep in here.” She nudged the stack against his hand until he grasped them. “Just don’t snore, okay? I’ll never be able to keep a straight face if you do.”

Mute, he nodded and kept one of the sheets before passing them along to the girl who sat behind him.

_Here._

Whatever the mark was, it had something to do with Morgana.

The irony that he now had even more reason to think about her didn’t escape him.

* * *

In the months that followed, Morgana rarely spoke to Merlin outside of class except when they would happen to pass each other in the hall or at lunchtime. Even then, it was a cursory smile or a brief “Hey,” nothing to denote anything more than an acquaintance, though the way Will went on about it, they were on the hook and just being coy about the whole thing.

“I’ve never even talked to her,” Merlin argued.

What Will heard was, “We’re too busy making out for chit-chat.”

At least Will never said anything to anybody else. His survival instincts were too strong to go blabbing. 

Merlin’s weren’t. The week before Thanksgiving, a group of seniors started catcalling at Morgana as she headed home. She ignored them, as usual, but even with the distance between them, Merlin saw the way her cheeks flushed. But Morgana was too proud to let them see the way their words could hurt, her step unfaltering, her chin high.

Anger bubbled inside him. They had no right to aim their hateful words at her. She didn’t deserve to be the object of their derision, no matter who her family was or where she was from.

Merlin clenched his hands so tightly, his nails cut into his palms. _Be the better man._ But the refrain wasn’t enough. His fury swelled beyond his control, and he abandoned his place in the line for the bus to stalk toward the offensive seniors.

“I think you owe Morgana an apology,” he said tightly.

Valiant, the leader of the bunch, regarded him in bewilderment. “Did you just talk to me, string bean?”

His pumping adrenaline girded his resolve. “You heard me. You shouldn’t talk to girls that way.”

When Valiant grinned, there was nothing pleasant about it. He was too much of a bully for it to be anything but malevolent. “Except everybody knows she loves it.” He jerked his head toward the distance. “Beat it.”

Merlin planted his feet. “Not until you apologize.”

Seeing that he wasn’t backing off, his buddies clustered closer. He didn’t know any of the others by name, just ruthless reputation. Valiant was the true force to be feared, but in that moment, Merlin felt only anger.

“I don’t apologize to anyone,” Valiant said. “Especially not to easy girls like her, so what’re you going to do about it?”

His fist lashed out. Pain exploded up his arm when he made contact with Valiant’s face, but Valiant barely stumbled back from the blow.

Malice glittered in Valiant’s beady eyes as he glared at Merlin. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Merlin didn’t have time to react before Valiant took his own swing. His punch slammed into Merlin’s midsection, knocking all the air out of Merlin as he slumped over. Before he could straighten, Valiant kicked at his knee, sending him toppling to the ground.

People crowded around them, and someone unseen started chanting, “Fight, fight!” Merlin clambered back to his feet, but he was barely upright before Valiant hit him again.

Merlin tasted blood this time. Swiping at his nose, it came away streaked in red. Valiant’s laughter rang in his ears.

“You think she’s even going to notice?” Valiant taunted. “Unless you’re trying to look like a pussy in front of her, in which case, bravo. You did it.”

In the distance, Morgana had stopped. When her eyes met Merlin’s, she gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

He understood without her having to say the words. For her, it wasn’t worth the fight, just another day in the life of being the bastard daughter of Uther Pendragon. Merlin didn’t agree, but he also knew this was not a battle he could win, not this way and not at this time.

When he didn’t respond right away, Valiant laughed and shook his head. “Stupid freshmen,” he said to his buddies.

“Sophomore,” Merlin corrected, but he said it under his breath to keep from incurring more punishment. As they sauntered off, the crowd dispersed. Merlin searched for Morgana again, but she was already gone.

The next day, somebody put water snakes in Valiant’s locker. Valiant squealed like a little girl and sliced his face open on the edge of his locker door in his awkward haste to slam it shut again. He got fifteen stitches and spent the rest of the year getting pranked with rubber snakes, including one that fell out of his graduation cap when he threw it in the air after the ceremony.

Nobody was ever caught for it.

* * *

Merlin started his junior year much like his sophomore—taller, stronger from his yard work over the summer months, still the occasional object of ribbing from the more popular kids. Morgana wasn’t in any of his classes, and neither was Will, but his assumptions he’d sit quietly in the corner were shattered when two of Arthur Pendragon’s coterie began including him in their conversations or saying hi to him in the halls.

The school quarterback, Percy was liked by all. He was always friendly, quick to help when necessary, and if he wasn’t exactly the smartest kid in the class, he never stopped trying to do better the next time. Gwaine, on the other hand, was divisive at best. Before he started talking to Merlin, Merlin had seen him as the wild card, picking fights when the odds were clearly stacked against him, flirting with even the plainest girl and making her feel special. How he and Percy could be best friends, Merlin had never understood. The two seemed to have nothing in common.

He realized how wrong he was about that soon after they asked him to be their third for a group English project. Each was loyal and kind-hearted, even if Gwaine preferred to hide his gentler side from almost everyone. They never judged Merlin for his poorer circumstances, either, and when they realized that he spent half his time outside of class looking for Morgana—or watching her, once he’d found her—they tried to bolster his confidence rather than tease him about his crush.

“Ask her out,” Gwaine said.

Merlin shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t even talk around her.” 

“She’s not that bad,” Percy tried. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“Oh, I don’t.” But it was a relief to know they didn’t listen to the gossip. “She’s always been nice to me.”

Gwaine kicked back in his seat. “She’d be better off with you than that idiot Cenred, that’s for sure.”

An icy chill ran down Merlin’s spine. “Who?”

“Cenred. The guy she’s dating?”

Breathing was becoming difficult. “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone.”

“He doesn’t go here,” Percy explained. “He’s in college. I heard her cousin introduced them.”

“But that still doesn’t mean she wouldn’t be better off with you,” Gwaine repeated. “Cenred’s an asshole.”

That might be the case, but Morgana had still chosen him. No wonder Merlin didn’t see her around school that much. She was too busy with her college boyfriend to care about the classmates who’d only ever ostracized her.

As images of Morgana holding hands and more with this faceless boyfriend tumbled through his head, Merlin rubbed at the tattoo through his shirt. He didn’t question its presence anymore. It was simply a part of him. Nobody else knew about it, though, because that would lead to questions he couldn’t answer.

In the aftermath of this new knowledge, Merlin took to riding his bike to and from school instead of taking the bus. It gave him freedom, ostensibly to hang out with Will and his new friends, but manifested as rides through Morgana’s neighborhood in the vain hope that he’d see her. Some of his gardening clients recognized him and asked if he was raking leaves. He didn’t mean to say yes. School was supposed to be his priority. But the chance to have a legitimate reason to be in the area was too tempting to resist.

He never saw either one of them there. Winter arrived, and his customers asked him to shovel snow, but all he accomplished during those months was saving enough money to buy Christmas gifts—a necklace for Hunith that he caught her admiring in the store window once, a new pocketknife for Will since he’d broken the last one fixing Merlin’s bike, even little somethings for Percy and Gwaine that earned him surprised claps on the back and invitations to their houses over Christmas break.

For Morgana, he bought a tiny jewelry box with a dragon carved into its lid and left it wrapped in her mailbox with a note he couldn’t find the nerve to sign.

_Because dragons represent strength, and you’re the strongest person I know._

It was impossible to find out whether or not she received it. He chose to imagine it sitting on her nightstand, the last thing she saw at night and the first she saw every morning.

Percy and Gwaine surprised him after school resumed by asking him to join them after school to hang out. The three ended up at Klein’s, sitting at the soda fountain counter with chocolate Cokes and talking about their holidays. When an engine roared outside, Merlin glanced out the window and saw a black Thunderbird idling at the light.

Gwaine followed his gaze, then rolled his eyes. “Such a show-off,” he scoffed.

“Who is it?” Merlin asked. He could make out a blonde in the passenger seat, but that was it.

“That’s Cenred,” Percy said.

“Didn’t you hear? Morgana dumped him on New Year’s Eve. She caught him making out with her cousin. That’s the cousin in the car.” With a grin, Gwaine elbowed Merlin in the side. “No more excuses about asking Morgana out now.”

The light turned green, and the Thunderbird pealed through the intersection. Merlin turned back to his soda with a grin he couldn’t suppress.

He might not be able to summon the courage to do as Gwaine suggested, but at least he could take comfort in the fact that Morgana had moved on from such a jerk. Maybe his Christmas gift had worked its own little magic, after all.

* * *

For all the time he started spending with Percy and Gwaine, Merlin didn’t meet Arthur face to face until halfway through their senior year.

It was a party at Percy’s house, celebrating the end of the basketball season. Merlin hadn’t really wanted to go, but then Gwaine told him to bring Will along, and he couldn’t actually say no after that. His relationship with Will had grown strained over the last year, his best friend’s jealousy over his so-called “new” friends testing both of their patience. Merlin wanted them to interact, for Will to see Percy and Gwaine were good guys. He certainly never expected for Arthur to seek him out.

“I can’t believe we haven’t officially met before now,” Arthur said, holding out a drink in offering. 

Merlin took it, wary in spite of all the nice things Percy and Gwaine had said about Arthur over the past year. As far as he was concerned, Arthur was still in the wrong for treating Morgana like she was nobody. Merlin wasn’t ready to let him off the hook for those slights.

“You’re a busy guy,” Merlin commented.

Arthur shrugged, his grin turning sheepish. “A little. But you’re not exactly sitting on the sidelines, you know. How many jobs do you have? On top of going to school?” He whistled under his breath. “My father would love for me to have your work ethic.”

This was turning into one of the weirdest conversations he’d ever had. Arthur Pendragon praising _him_? “Did Percy put you up to this?”

“Of course not. Just because we haven’t met doesn’t mean I don’t know who you are.” He coughed into his hand, clearing his throat. “Speaking of, I’ve always wanted to thank you for that fight you had our sophomore year.”

Merlin cycled through his memories, trying to decide which one Arthur referred to. “The one with Valiant?”

“Yeah. You’re the only person I know who’s stood up for Morgana in public. Well, the only one who isn’t one of her flunkies, anyway. I want you to know I appreciate it. She deserves a better hand than the cards she’s been dealt.”

“You’re acting like you care.”

“I do. I wish things could be different, but Father lives in his own reality. As long as I live under his roof, I have to pretend I live in it, too.” He played with his cup. Merlin realized it was still full, that while others were drinking, Arthur was only playing along. Maybe they weren’t as different as he’d imagined. “The best I’ve been able to do is get her away from Cenred. Of all the mistakes she could’ve made, he was the worst.”

Merlin blinked at him in confusion. “I thought she broke it off with him because he was cheating on her with Morgause.”

“He was, and she did, but she wouldn’t have caught them together if I hadn’t arranged it.”

Although it was entirely possible Arthur was making all this up to garner favor with Merlin—which seemed such an entirely ridiculous possibility, Merlin was shocked he even considered it—Merlin believed him. Speaking one on one with Arthur was different than seeing him across a crowded hallway. At school, he was cock of the walk, all Colgate smiles and confidence. In person, there was a humble honesty in the way he looked at you that was hard to ignore.

“Does she know?” Merlin asked.

Arthur shook his head. “She won’t speak to me. I’ve tried. I even went to her house last summer when I knew her mom was at work so we could have some privacy. But she slammed the door in my face.”

“She’s proud.”

“I can’t imagine where she gets that from.”

Merlin snorted at the sarcasm. “You shouldn’t give up.”

“Do you…” Arthur glanced toward the ongoing party, then firmed his jaw and met Merlin’s eyes again. “I was hoping you could put in a good word for me. Tell her I’m not so bad.”

His brows shot up. “Me? I’ve never even said a word to her.”

“But I thought you two were friends.”

It was Merlin’s turn to fidget. “We’re not enemies.”

“She says hi to you. I’ve seen it.”

“And I smile or I wave back. That’s it.”

“That’s crazy.”

Merlin couldn’t disagree without explaining what had held him back all this time, and to do that really would make him sound insane.

“You need to tell her how you feel,” Arthur pressed. “We graduate in just a few months, and then what’s going to happen?”

A valid question, one Merlin had been obsessed with since the second semester started. After June, Morgana would be out of his life for good unless he did something about it. Everything from the last three years would become memory rather than everyday, and time would slowly steal it away from him. If he wanted the chance to keep his contact with her alive—any chance at all—he needed to act.

* * *

Graduation day was uncharacteristically overcast, the winds cool with the impending storm. Merlin endured the pictures with Will for his parents, with Percy and Gwaine for theirs, by himself for Hunith, but always he watched for Morgana, noting how she hovered on the edge of the football field, her robe already open, her gaze darting again and again to the parking lot.

As soon as he saw her break away from the festivities, he made an excuse to Hunith and bolted to follow.

He caught up with Morgana behind the concession stand, with nobody else around to witness. She jerked to a halt, body stiff with irritation, but when she saw who it was standing in front of her, she noticeably relaxed. She even smiled as she looked up at him, an invitation to break his silence if ever he recognized one.

“Merlin.” His name was a lyric on her tongue, making his heart sing from how pleased she sounded. “What’re you doing here? It looked like your mom was going to keep you busy until the clouds finally decided to open.”

Smiling back at her, he reached inside his graduation robe and pulled out the small box he’d carried all day in his pocket. The tiny red bow was crushed now, but he held it out to her anyway as if it was the Crown Jewels themselves.

“For me?” She plucked it off his palm. “You didn’t have to do that. I don’t have anything for you.”

He jerked his chin toward the gift. With a laugh, she tugged on the end of the ribbon to open it.

Nestled on the satin lining was a silver bracelet laden with charms. Morgana’s eyes widened as she pulled it out, examining each with growing delight. The heart. The sun. The dragon.

Last of all was an oblong disk with an etching so fine it was difficult to read. Morgana squinted as she tried to make it out, then shook her head.

“I can’t tell what it says.”

Merlin reached past her fingers to remove a folded piece of paper that had been in the lid of the box. His skin brushed hers as he gave it to her, and a small shiver worked its way over his flesh.

She opened it up and began reading. “‘How many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty with love false or true;’ —”

“—‘But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, and loved the sorrows of your changing face,’” Merlin finished.

When she lifted her gaze to his again, her eyes glistened. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s Yeats.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” It was enough for him to see the look on her face, the wonder that was meant just for him. “I didn’t want you to think our friendship didn’t mean something to me. It did.”

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

Before he could reply, a sharp feminine voice yelled out, “Morgana!”

Her head whipped around at the same time she curled her fingers protectively around the box and bracelet. “That’s my mom. I should go.”

“Okay.” He stood there and watched as she walked away, lingering even after she’d disappeared. He’d done it. What happened now was up to Morgana and whatever magic seemed to thread them together.

* * *

When he heard the knocking at the front door that night, Merlin ignored it until Hunith called for him.

“Merlin! Someone’s here to see you!”

Setting aside the book he hadn’t really been reading, Merlin ambled down the stairs, stopping in surprise on the bottom riser when he saw who stood on the doorstep.

“Hi,” he said to an unsmiling Morgana.

“We need to talk.”

When he glanced at Hunith, Morgana shook her head.

“In private.”

“I’ll go in the kitchen,” Hunith offered.

“No, that’s okay.” Merlin descended the final stair and slipped on his shoes that sat next to the door. “We can go in the back yard.”

Morgana moved out of his way when he came out, but she was right on his heels as he went to the side gate and opened it. The silence was heavy between them, a weight unlike any other in all the time he’d known her, and a knot had formed in the middle of his chest by the time the gate swung shut behind him.

“Did you want to—”

But his query about sitting on the garden bench went unspoken as she whirled on him.

“What did you do to me?” she hissed.

The force of her anger took him aback. “I don’t—”

“This.” 

Thrusting her arm out, she yanked up her sleeve to expose her wrist. There, in the same black as his, was a delicate tattoo he’d never seen before, an infinity symbol composed of words. He knew before he read them what they were, and the knot inside him tightened.

“This is that quote,” Morgana went on. “What you said to me after graduation today. How did you do this?”

“I didn’t.”

“You must’ve. I didn’t have it before you gave me the bracelet, and now I do, so obviously, you must be behind this.”

She was so adamant about his involvement, it was actually endearing. “You really think I somehow managed to tattoo you without your knowledge?” he said, trying not to smile and failing miserably.

Morgana shoved at his shoulder. “It’s not funny!”

“Maybe not,” he conceded. “I was scared when mine showed up, too.”

“When you…what?”

Unbuttoning another button on his shirt, he pulled the fabric to the side to expose the mark over his heart. Her frown remained firmly in place as she leaned forward to look at it.

“I found this on the first day of our sophomore year,” Merlin said. “That night. I had no idea how it got there, either, and I didn’t figure out what it meant until the next day in geometry.”

“So what does it mean?”

He looked her directly in the eye, silently willing her to believe him, even as fantastical as it all was. “It’s the first thing you ever said to me. Remember when you helped me pick up my stuff after those jocks knocked everything out of my arm? That’s what you said when you picked up my pencil case and passed it back to me.”

Though she’d gone still at his trip down memory lane, she shook her head when he was done. “That’s not possible.”

“Then why is it the very first words I ever said to you are now in the same kind of tattoo on your wrist?” he asked gently.

“That’s not the first thing you ever said to me,” she scoffed.

“Really? Think about it, Morgana. All those times you said hi to me in the hall. Did I ever say hi back? No,” he answered for her because he saw the truth dawn in her face. “Never in class, never outside of class. Today was the first time ever. For a reason.”

“Because you thought…” Her voice trailed off, her gaze sliding back to her wrist.

“You think you’re mad now? How angry would you have been if it said, ‘How’d you do on the test?’ or ‘Oops, sorry!’ instead?”

His attempt at levity worked. Her shoulders sagged, and her soft laughter dispelled some of the tension. “So you deliberately never spoke to me because of this?” she asked.

“That, and I wanted it to mean something.” He dared taking a step closer, his heart thrilling when she didn’t retreat. “This morning, after I gave you the bracelet, I never had the chance to answer your question about whether or not we’re friends.”

“It seems silly in light of this,” Morgana said, tracing lightly over the tattoo.

“I think it’s all part of the same thing.” He caught her hand in his, turning the palm up so he could cover her fingers with his own. Though she seemed calmer on the outside, the wild tympani of her pulse vibrated against his flesh, a balm in a way since it made him realize he wasn’t alone in his nerves. “If you hadn’t had to go, I would’ve said, yes, we’re friends, but no, that’s not all you are, or ever could be, for me. That’s why I picked the Yeats quote. I meant every word of it.”

With her head tilted down, all he could see was the fan of her eyelashes against her pale cheeks. “Nobody’s ever been as nice to me as you’ve been,” she whispered. “Even though you never asked me out, you always made me feel…special.”

“Because you are.”

“You don’t know that. I’ve done some horrible things. Been mean to people who were horrible to me. Did you know I deliberately went after a boy my cousin liked just to see if I could get him to like me more than her? That’s not the way someone special behaves.”

“Look at me.” When she didn’t, he abandoned her wrist to cup the back of her head and compel her gaze up at him. “I know you’re not perfect. I never expected you to be. But none of us are. I’m definitely not.”

“That’s not the way it looks from my angle. You always take the high road. You never lash out for no reason.”

“Wrong. Who do you think put the snakes in Valiant’s locker after he beat me up?”

Her mouth canted into a half-smile. “He deserved that.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re also the one who left me that wonderful jewelry box last year,” she said. “So I think that cancels out a few snakes.”

“You knew that was from me? How?”

“I spent a year passing your homework up. I think I know what your handwriting looks like.”

He hadn’t even considered that, but she seemed so pleased with herself, he smiled along with her. “I wish you’d said something.”

“I almost did,” she confessed. “But then you were spending so much time with Arthur’s crowd, I thought it was your way of moving on. I wanted to respect that.”

“I never moved on.”

As he debated telling her about Arthur and his desire to help her, a fat raindrop landed on the back of his neck. Jerking away, he looked up at the swollen clouds.

“Maybe we should take this inside,” he said.

“Not yet,” Morgana replied. “I’d rather not have an audience for this.”

The next thing Merlin knew, Morgana trapped his face between her hands and kissed him.

As unexpected as it was, he yielded to the caress without hesitation, curving his hand around her waist to keep both of them steady. The kiss was soft and lingering, with a touch of peppermint from the gum he knew she preferred, but what he loved best about it was the way Morgana seemed to tremble against him, testimony that in spite of her bravado, she was as overwhelmed by the depth of her emotions as he was.

She leaned against him when they parted, resting her cheek against his chest. “I don’t know what happens next,” she said.

Merlin held her close and brushed a kiss across the top of her head. “What do you want to happen?”

She took a long time to answer. When it came, it was barely a breath.

“To not be me.”

“Don’t say that. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“You’re the only person in this whole damn town who thinks that.”

“I’m not.” Gently, he held her at arm’s length, so she couldn’t hide from the truth he professed. “What would you say if I told you Arthur once asked me to put in a good word with you for him?”

“I’d say you were nuts.”

“Except he did. And he’s not the only one who spoke up about you. People are better than you think, Morgana. You just have to be willing to meet them partway.”

The rain was coming down more steadily now, clinging to his eyelashes, dampening Morgana’s shoulders. He knew they should go inside where it was dry, but he feared losing what momentum he seemed to be gaining with her.

“I don’t know how to do that,” Morgana said.

“Show them what you showed me. Your kindness. Your heart. How strength doesn’t have to be about tearing things down, but building them up. That’s the Morgana I love.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she stepped back into his body. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” He brushed a kiss across her temple. “I think I always have.”

With a satisfied sigh, she pressed her hand on his chest, directly over the spot where his tattoo was. “I’m starting to believe that if we can create the kind of magic that makes our words real, we can do pretty much anything.”

That, right there, was the crux of why Merlin loved this girl. Because no matter what was thrown at her, no matter how daunting an obstacle might be, she would find the means to overcome it, to forge her own rules when the world refused to behave as expected.

And he would be there, at her side, every step of the way.


End file.
